


All That I Know

by hanafleur



Category: One Piece
Genre: M/M, Porn with Feelings, Post-Time Skip, That's basically all this is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-28
Updated: 2016-06-28
Packaged: 2018-07-18 20:34:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7329760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanafleur/pseuds/hanafleur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I know you don’t give a shit if you live or die,” Sanji said, “but some of us do.”</p>
<p>Zoro reached out and grabbed Sanji by the shoulder to turn him around.</p>
<p>“Like who?” he asked mirthfully, already knowing the answer to his own question. “Like you?”</p>
<p>Sanji shoved his hand away. “Yeah dumbass. Like me.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	All That I Know

**Author's Note:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

As happy as Sanji was to reunite with the crew after two years apart, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t desperate to get some alone time with Zoro. True, most of his day had been spent babysitting the directionless idiot as he mowed his way through Sabaody, bragging about making it back to the archipelago before anyone else, but that wasn’t enough. 

 

Sanji’d spent the last two years hoping that Zoro had survived his encounter with Kizaru, that he wasn’t stuck on some deserted island somewhere, dying in a puddle of his own blood, but until now he’d had no way of knowing. Memories of what he’d seen on Thriller Bark, of watching Zoro get shot through by a bolt of light, of clinging to Kuma’s leg as he tried in desperation to keep him from finishing the swordsman off; all of it haunted Sanji’s thoughts throughout the day. When they’d finally boarded the Sunny again, he’d reached the absolute end of his rope. Sanji had to talk to him.   

 

And when he dragged Zoro into the deserted men’s cabin after dinner that night, he’d had every intention of doing just that. Talking, sorting out what had happened, having some sort of sincere, heartfelt conversation. But as soon as they were alone, it was like a switch went off inside him. It’d been two years since he’d been alone with Zoro, two years since they’d done more than talk shit to one another, since they’d been so close, since they’d done...anything. And without thinking twice about it, Sanji pushed Zoro up against the door before the other man could protest, pinning him there with a harsh kiss. 

 

Kissing Zoro could be genuinely sweet when they were both in the right mood for it. But most of the time, the two of them kissed like they fought. Rough, spontaneous, full of hunger and pent-up energy and frustration and lust. This kiss was no exception. Sanji dug his nails into Zoro’s shoulder blades and pulled them as close together as he could manage, biting his lower lip, sliding his tongue into Zoro’s mouth. Zoro returned in kind, and Sanji felt a calloused hand gripping the hair at the back of his head until it was painful. A low moan bubbled up in Sanji’s throat as he slid his own hand into the hair at the nape of his neck. His fingers brushed against the cold metal of Zoro’s earrings, inspiring him to break the kiss apart and nip at the shell of his ear. 

 

“Fuck, cook,” Zoro said in a ragged voice. “Thought you wanted to talk.”

 

“I did,” Sanji said, “we will, just…”

 

He sighed against Zoro’s neck, felt the man’s thready pulse against his cheek, his rapid heartbeats against his chest. At least he wasn’t the only one worked up. He pulled back and found Zoro studying him, his eyes hazy. Or at least, one of them was. Sanji still wasn’t clear on that, although knowing Zoro, there was a 50/50 chance he’d done something stupid to earn his new scar.  

 

Sanji brought his hand up to thumb around the edge of the damaged skin just above his cheekbone, but Zoro jerked away from his touch. 

 

“What happened to it?” Sanji asked. 

 

Zoro’s expression turned dark. “Don’t worry about it,” he said. 

 

Sanji frowned. He focused his attention on Zoro’s chest, on the scars he bore beneath the fabric of his open shirt. Small, insignificant nicks littered his tanned skin, all of them outshone by the massive scar that ran from his shoulder to his hip, the wound that had nearly ripped him in half. And on the left side of his chest was the scar he’d received from Kizaru, the one that’d just barely missed his heart and torn through his lung instead, leaving him more vulnerable than Sanji’d ever seen him. Even after his fight with Mihawk, the idiot had still insisted on raising his sword to the sky, shouting out words of undying loyalty for Luffy to hear. That hadn’t been the case with Kizaru, and Sanji could still hear Zoro’s ragged breaths as he struggled to breath through the blood filling his lungs. 

 

“Asshole,” Sanji scoffed under his breath. “How can you say shit like that?” 

 

Zoro looked confused. “What do you-”

 

“You act like none of this matters! Like it’s no big deal! Fuck…” 

 

He turned away from Zoro and ran a hand through his hair, his fingers itching for a cigarette. 

 

“I wasn’t even sure if you’d come back,” Sanji confessed quietly. “You couldn’t even stand the last time I saw you, you couldn’t-”

 

He broke off, unable to finish his thought. The image was too horrible to think about. They’d all come close to dying at one point or another; that was just the way of things when you lived the life they did. But Sanji had seen Zoro near death one too many times, and the thought that he could have died alone after they’d been split up, that they wouldn’t have even been able to find him if he did...

 

“I know you don’t give a shit if you live or die,” Sanji said, “but some of us do.” 

 

Zoro reached out and grabbed Sanji by the shoulder to turn him around. 

 

“Like who?” he asked mirthfully, already knowing the answer to his own question. “Like you?” 

 

Sanji shoved his hand away. “Yeah dumbass. Like me.” 

 

The hint of a grin on Zoro’s face pissed him off to no end, but it also made him desperate to kiss him again, to pin him against the wall, to take out all his anger and fears and frustration on him without having to kick his ass to do it. And so he did. 

 

Zoro’s short nails raked across his ribs, and Sanji’s hands wandered underneath Zoro’s shirt to grip his ass, dragging a low moan out of the other man’s throat. Sanji could feel himself growing harder by the second, and when his fingers traveled between the cleft of the ass he was squeezing, Zoro’s breath hitched, and he broke their kiss. 

 

“Cook, just...just wait a second.” 

 

“What?” Sanji asked. “No one will bother us. They know what we do in here anyway.” He nipped at the spot where Zoro’s jaw met his ear. “Let me have you.” 

 

Zoro snorted. “Do you have to say it like that?” 

“I’m trying to be romantic, you colossal prick!” 

 

“You do realize your fingers are in my ass, right?” Zoro asked.

 

Instead of answering, Sanji slipped his index finger deeper into Zoro’s ass, stretching him out to accommodate another. The movement brought their hips closer together, close enough that Sanji could feel the hardness between Zoro’s legs grinding against his own. 

 

“Shit, Sanji…,” Zoro groaned, and the use of his first name turned him on like nothing else. 

 

“You always have to be so fucking difficult,” Sanji ground out. He curled his fingers slightly, biting at Zoro’s exposed neck when his head flew back against the wall, another moan rumbling in his chest. “So I’ll word this in a way even you can understand. Let me fuck you.”

 

Zoro’s answer came in the form of hurriedly ripping into Sanji’s pants, and Sanji helped the process along before stripping Zoro of his own clothing, hiking one of his muscled legs around his waist. 

 

“You have lube?” Zoro asked, letting out a short gasp when Sanji rolled his hips forward. 

  
“Shit,” Sanji cursed. “Hold on a minute.” 

 

Sanji dropped Zoro’s leg to rummage around in the lockers next to them, eventually pulling out a bottle of lubricant that hadn’t seen much use since he’d bought it. He slicked up his fingers, gliding into him without resistance, and it wasn’t long before Zoro was hiding his moans in the crook of Sanji’s neck. 

 

“Just get on with it,”he said.. 

 

“I’m trying to avoid hurting you, idiot,” Sanji shot back. Any further protest, however, was cut short when Zoro wrapped a hand around his cock. Sanji bit back a curse. 

 

“Neither of us are gonna last,” Zoro said. “So just do it.”

 

“God damnit.” The stupid bastard was right. They’d both been touch-starved for way too long, and the last thing he wanted was cut their time together short. He used his knee to open Zoro’s thighs and hefted one of the man’s legs around his waist again. 

 

“This’d be easier if I turned around,” Zoro pointed out. 

 

“Don’t care,” Sanji said. He pulled Zoro’s face away from his neck. “I wanna see you.” 

 

Zoro might have responded to Sanji’s ever-enduring sappiness had he not chosen that exact moment to push his hand away, slick up his cock with lube, and thrust inside of him. Zoro’s heel dug into Sanji’s lower back, pulling them closer together. 

 

“Shit,” Zoro cursed, barely above a whisper. His face and ears were flushed red, which Sanji found oddly endearing. 

 

Zoro bit and sucked painfully at his neck, but the sensation was more than welcome. It mingled with the pleasure of Zoro wrapped around his cock, provided an overwhelming reminder that they were here, that this was happening, that Zoro was alive and Sanji was inside him and both of them had made it, had survived, had found their way back to one another. The thought made him hold on tighter, thrust harder, whisper everything that he’d wanted to say to Zoro over the past two years but hadn’t been able to, sweet nothings that Zoro hated but Sanji needed to say because Zoro could have  _ died _ , he could have died, and Sanji would have never been able to say them.

 

“Cook,” he heard Zoro say. “I’m close, so just...just shut up for one second and help me out here.” 

 

“Fuck you,” Sanji said, but the words held none of their usual venom. “You owe me this, shit-head, after what you did. Almost leaving me.” 

 

Sanji squeezed a hand between their bodies to stroke Zoro’s cock.

 

“But I didn’t,” Zoro said. 

 

“I know, I just...fuck.” 

 

Sanji gripped the back of Zoro’s neck and pulled their mouths together as his orgasm started to build in his gut, tugging at him until he couldn’t hold it off anymore. Sanji came inside him, and Zoro came shortly after, sagging against the wall and breaking their kiss apart. The leg wrapped around his waist disappeared, and Sanji slumped against Zoro’s chest, breathing heavily. 

 

“I’m glad you’re alive, you stupid mosshead,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. 

  
Zoro let his cheek rest against the top of Sanji’s head. “Yeah. Me too.”


End file.
